Pick Yourself Up and Dust Yourself Off

I am not having a "good day" today. Meaning, I had a massive panic attack last night that was so intense I actually thought I might be having a heart attack. The same thing happened as last time, only it was scarier. I was up alot later than I wanted to be, and then I had my very first dream about my mom, finally, which triggered another panic attack this morning. I suppose this is only natural, but they are so intense that I feel as though I am in shock afterwards. I am now on Ativan. How disappointing for me.

I am a health nut, a tree-hugger, a hippie, whatever the term may be...I take good care of myself, mentally, physically, emotionally. I am in control of my own body, no one else, and I do not let anything take that away. I do not wallow in sorrow, I do not lay in bed for days with the lights off, I do not contemplate hurting myself or others, I do none of these things and instead focus on positive thing for my body like eating healthy, running, yoga, stretching, sitting quietly and thinking, helping others, writing, visiting my friends, and I am not necessarily talking about when mom was sick. I have always felt this way, regardless of what was happening in my life. I respect myself and know that my body is the only one I'll ever have, and I know the pleasure in taking care of myself. So, I went from naturally handling my feelings and emotions and my life...to taking Xanex...to taking two Xanex...to taking Ativan. Awesome.

Regardless of what happened last night and this morning, I got up, stretched for a long time, thought about my mom, and put on some running clothes. And I went running. Outside. In the sunshine. In the Fall weather. By myself. I listened to Mika. I smiled and waved to people I passed, and they all smiled back. And I felt good. It is amazing how one person can go from feeling completely lost and distraught and desperate to feeling solid and in control and OK. It literally is exhausting. But, I think about feeling consistently miserable, consistently sad, and I am happy that I have a roller coaster for a life instead of a never-ending highway that stretches as far as the eye can see. Thank God for roller coasters. I'll take a roller coaster any day of the week.

It is so funny to me now how the littlest things catch my attention, and how I can twist them into helping myself feel better. Things people would never consider, and maybe this is a sign that I am that desperate to not feel like this anymore, but I guess we all have to do what works for us. Sunday night, the night before my mom's service, I went over to my aunt Janny's house to print out some pictures of my mom for a picture board people could look at while they waited in line. Aunt Rita was having people over to her house for dinner, and I do not know if your family does things like this, but for nearly any and all occasions, we get together and eat. All night long. So aunt Janny and I took a break from pictures to visit with the rest of the family. We stayed for a little over an hour and talked and laughed, but we needed to head back to her house to finish our job. We were about two minutes down the street, and she started to hysterically laugh. I looked over at her, and she said "Julia Christin...I don't have any shoes on!" nearly yelling she was laughing so hard. And she giggled and giggled, and then I giggled too. She walked out of aunt Rita's house, through the cold garage, onto the cold concrete of the driveway, touched her socked-feet to the gas pedal, and never realized she didn't have her shoes on. Thank God she realized before we got all the way to her house...

But this is what death and mourning and shock do to your brain. Completely numb, completely unaware. I can barely remember what I ate for lunch today. Aunt Janny forgets to put on her shoes.

Today, after running, I met aunt Janny for lunch, and by the way, I have moved on from carbs and chocolate and now have re-introduced salads back into my life. Anyway, we sat for a couple of hours and talked and joked, and we talked about "mush brain," which is what we have called our current condition. And she said, "Well, at least I have my shoes on today..."

Whatever it takes to pick yourself up and dust yourself off...Ativan, running, writing, putting your shoes on. They are all a step in the right direction.